Feeling Myself (Becoming a Hot Mess)

This week I decided to work on trying to look 'cute' more. I am single, after all, and apparently running shorts and tee shirts isn't the best way to "people", or make a first impression. This weekend I did a (what felt like 4000 square ft.) house for a friend of mine, and worked on the yard, which equates to about three grueling gym sessions, so it seemed like the perfect time to do it. You know, because working out once makes you look hot and I technically worked out three times. This is what happened.

Monday, I went with a long, flowy dress with spaghetti straps, to show off the new tan I am now the proud owner of. About mid-morning, I began to notice what I thought was a heat rash from being hot and sweaty for days, was spreading up my arms. And Itching. Badly. Like 'emergency room' badly. Surprise! I am also the proud owner of a nice case of Poison Oak. Yay. At least my hair was still cute. I went with braided pigtails and it was loosening up nicely throughout the work day to look like I meant to do it. I stopped by a drug store and grabbed some hydrocortisone and the clear calamine, to not interfere with my plan to not be an ogre this week.

Tuesday morning, I took my pigtails down that I had slept in to get in the bath, and my hair looked too good with the loose curls to pass up this freebie. Threw it in a bun, jumped in the bath and was blissfully enamored by my good fortune, feeling even better about myself. Imagine my mood being 'Strut' if that paints you a picture.

I decided to go with this little black Charlotte Russe® sundress with a detailed back. It’s comfortable but still professional enough and always looks great on. I don’t own too many really fashion forward pieces anymore, so this one makes me feel like an actual girl. I had my hair down with the curls I was feeling so good about, threw some makeup on, some gladiators, and a long necklace, and rolled out the door. At the drive thru grabbing a coffee I began to notice little white specks on the black dress. I flicked them away without being too mortified, and headed to the office.

By the time I got to the office, I noticed my dress covered in them again. Then I noticed my arms seemed to be peeling off. The clear calamine lotion I figured was the safe bet apparently flakes off into thousands of tiny, dandruff appearing flecks and I am wearing a black dress. Lovely.

While working at my desk, I threw my hair up, which is a regular thing for me. A nice messy bun with a few tendrils flowing. Gillian and I took a snack break and christened the cheese balls we bought the day before. Let me tell you… if you don’t want anyone noticing white flecks on your clothes, then eat cheese balls. The bright orange camouflages it beautifully!

I went to the bathroom to try and fix myself before I left to get the kids, and got a look in the mirror of my once great-looking hair. It was now awkward, ratty and greasier than a chicken wing.

Let’s recap, shall we? I left the house looking like a well put together vixen, with lovely loose curls and a little black dress, and now look like a greasy headed, dandruff covered weirdo with cheese ball dust all over me. Oh… and now I have paper towel residue from trying to clean the cheese dust off and am limping horribly from my hurt ankle disagreeing with my gladiators. I have no idea why I’m still single.

I decided to make the best of it and become the walking, stand-up comedian and point it out to anyone looking too closely before they could form an opinion. That is pretty much how it goes when I try to look nice and leave the house.

I suppose there is one good point to all of this. When I finally meet someone, they will definitely be with me for what’s inside rather than my impeccable style and good looks. They may even like the Cheeto dust and ‘post-apocalyptic chic’ thing I have going on.